Shaniqwa Jarvis and Oge Egbuonu, In Conversation

Though her resume reads “photographer,” Shaniqwa Jarvis, the artist behind Beauty of Becoming’s eye-catching portraits, is really more of a storyteller. Thanks to an aesthetic that combines rawness with optimism, sparkling fashion with emotional portraiture, Shaniqwa has established herself as one of the most in-demand photographers in art, editorial, fashion, and advertising. But it is her talent for capturing a story in a single image, a talent that she derives largely from her ability to connect with her subjects, that has really elevated her to the top rungs of photography. Something that also serves her well in her work with Social Studies, an experiential retail pop up she founded to connect emerging artists with brands and creators through a slate of curated programming. She recently took time out of her busy schedule to chat with filmmaker Oge Egbuonu about her lifelong obsession with photography, where she goes to find inspiration, and how she came up with the idea for Social Studies.

How has January been for you?

It’s been pretty chill. I spent a little bit of it in Costa Rica. I think I wanted to really change my perspective. Then, when I came back home, I was like, “Okay. All the decisions I made while I was away, I want to stick to them.” Because it’s one thing when you’re like, “Oh, I want to do this and be the best version of myself,” and then you get right back into all of the habits that create this space in your head that’s not good.

Literally that just tied into my next question for you. In the midst of the pandemic, what are the ways you’re cultivating self-care?

I think the most important thing is always to be physical. If that’s like riding a bike, or going swimming, or going for a walk. I think stuff like that is really important. So that’s been a lot of the self-care. Then, also, taking time away from screens. Just coming back to myself, which is chilling, reading books, making good food. That kind of thing.

I love that you say cooking as part of your restorative care, because I feel like you’re equally as busy as me, so the fact that you can find time to give to yourself through the medium of cooking, that’s really inspiring to me. I know it shouldn’t be, but it is.

I forgot where I read it, it was probably some astrological thing where it talked about Pisces who, or if you have like an Aries moon, but it was that the way you cook is very emotional. So you’ll cook and you’ll go out and you’ll do all this stuff, and then one day you’ll just be like, “Nah, I’m not cooking anymore. We’re going to order out.” My husband Raj can definitely attest to that, I’ll make all these amazing meals and then one day I’ll just be like, “Can we order McDonald’s?” I’ve had enough and so let’s get the worst of the worst. But also, it’s the best of the best.

Oh, I love that.

Don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s part of my self-care. I’m always like, “Do what you want. Nobody cares. Don’t judge yourself too harshly.”

I find your life very inspiring. You really empower me in just the way you move through life. And I’ve always wondered, how did you discover your love for photography? Do you remember the first time you picked up a camera? And what was that experience like for you?

I don’t remember because I was really, really young. I think I have a memory, but it can also be just because I have the photos to reinforce the idea. I think, because both my parents always took photos, I was just very used to that. I always say to people my earliest visual language was photography. And my grandparents too, they always had these really big, beautiful photo albums of their people. It wasn’t common for Black families in the 40’s/50s to have a camera, and then also preserve a scrapbook. I think I was always just drawn to that. And then when I would go see other people, like other family members, I’d always be like, “Oh, can I see your photos?”

It’s interesting that you talked about how your parents had this love of photography, because I’ve been following your career for a long time, and I’ve heard you speak a lot about your mother, Justine Elliott. So I was curious, what has been her influence on you?

I think in the beginning I was really just aiming to show her right because she was very much like, “Oh, this job’s going to be really hard and I feel for you.” So in the beginning I thought, “I’m going to prove her wrong.” Everything, of course, that she said would be difficult was very difficult, and everything she said would come to pass, did. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve been able to properly look back and be like, “Oh. Well, all of these hurdles have inspired me.” I also feel like my dad was a great photographer. So I think, in my mind, I’ve taken a little bit from both my parents.

Outside of your parents, who else would you say inspires the way you tell stories?

I think I look everywhere. Not to sound corny or lame, but I really do look everywhere because, for me, inspiration is everywhere. It’s the way light will hit in certain places. I often try to recreate that. There’s certain parts of certain coastlines that I’ve been to that I’m like, “Whoa, I’ve never seen light hit like this.” Or a scent will remind me of something and I try to recreate that. The greats are also on my mind. I often think of Bruce Davidson’s Subway, Mario Sorrenti, not even his fashion photos, but his photos of things and places, I think those are amazing. The way Guy Bourdin shot color in advertising. I think the first time I saw Carrie Mae Weems’ work when I worked for A Photographer’s Place, I think that cemented for me, “Oh wait, this is what you can do.”

It’s interesting you mentioned Carrie Mae Weems, because I studied her and she’s absolutely incredible. The way she tells stories, to me, mirrors the way you tell a story in the sense that I think you both use photography to search for truth and authenticity. Do you feel like that’s true for you?

Yes, I do. It’s funny because I feel people say that about my work all the time, whereas I don’t go into it with that. I want to capture what I see, and what I see isn’t always what everyone else is going to see. No one looks at you the way that you look at you. So yeah, I think I just want people to see what I see. It’s super basic.

But yet so profound. The things that are typically what we consider to be simple are the things that truly are the most profound. It’s so simple and we tend to make life so complex.

I do recall one time I was showing people a photo show that I had worked on. It was a bunch of guys from an ad agency, and one of the guys said, “When I walked in here I thought, ‘Ugh, this is so easy, all of these photos.’” Then he walks around the show and he came to me and was like, “Actually, I realized at the end, this isn’t easy at all. I can’t even get my daughter to look at me like that.” I think maybe that’s part of the mastery, convincing people that something is so easy that they themselves can do it. Making it seem like it’s effortless, but it’s actually me clocking someone’s whole life in like two minutes, and then trying to put that on film.

It actually makes me think about, or begs the question rather, what is your creative process like? How do you go about deciding how you construct the shoot?

I have to honestly say, I don’t know. For each shoot, each way that I attack something is quite different. Sometimes there’s the luck of me being somewhere fantastic and I think, “Oh, I really want to capture this.” Even with everything that I shot for Levi’s, seeing that many people in the amount of time I had, I’m able to capture a certain type of portrait. Sometimes I have more time with people, sometimes I have less. But I think that ultimately, when I’m thinking about how I’m going to go into something, I generally just try and be myself. I feel like if I’m myself, other people will be as well.

Can you talk to me about Social Studies? What was the conception of it? What is your aim or mission for it now?

I think at the end of the day, the aim has always been to provide access and education to people, specifically people of color. In the beginning I was saying “youth.” We were like, “Let’s talk about the youth and their access to things.” But I also think that sometimes people in later parts of their life decide that they want to pivot and they want to change careers, and so sometimes this information and/or access is for them as well. I guess it’s changed, because we started it at Art Basel, and it was a lot more retail with some activations. There were some talks, but not as big as when we took it to New York. Most recently, we did it online, and that’s because of the pandemic. We had workshops and we had talks, then we had one-on-one conversations geared around what specifically was happening at the time, like trying to get people to vote. I feel like the more you know, the better you do, with everything. We wanted people to hear that from the designers and artists that they look up to.

My final question for you is, what advice would you give your 14-year-old self about trusting the journey of becoming who you’ve become today?

I would say to my 14-year-old self do not believe anything that you’re being force-fed. Not to believe any of the ideals, beauty standards; not to believe any of it because it’s all false. It’s all set there to make you want to hate yourself, to make you want to not succeed, or make you not want to do anything. You should just believe in what your gut’s telling you to do and keep pushing.